


Have You Ever

by qianwanshi



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, M/M, Not Beta Read, Rimming, pwp really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-29
Updated: 2019-05-29
Packaged: 2020-03-26 14:52:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19008034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/qianwanshi/pseuds/qianwanshi
Summary: “Have you ever-“ he breaks away to kiss unresponsive lips. Have You Ever is Sirius’ latest favorite game in which he narrows down to another thing Remus has not had the joy of experiencing in the past so that he can immediately and enthusiastically do that exact thing. The game has had mixed success so far.





	Have You Ever

**Author's Note:**

> well i've found myself here in 2019 writing hp fic i guess  
> this is part of a larger au sandbox I've built up with a darling friend of mine & with any luck will have more additions soon! Sirius n Remus are in college (american style bc I can't be bothered to british-ize everything im sorry) Remus has long hair and studies film and Sirius studies fine arts and Remus is the finest art he's laid eyes on.

Sirius wakes up as he typically does on a weekend morning: early enough that the morning sunlight is still foggy hazy through the thin curtains and that Remus is still deep in sleep next to him.

Remus staying overnight is still new enough to be novel, and the fact that this one marks his third morning straight at Sirius’ shared place with James is thrilling. Sirius has seen Remus in a bunch of different states of disarray. He’s seen him fresh from a shower, lost deep in homework, dazed after orgasm, but nothing compares to Remus all sleep warm and cozy in the mornings. 

Okay, he can be a little grumpy if he gets woken up even on the weekends and he often struggles to produce actual language before he’s had coffee but he’s still very very cute. His hair, which had been tied back before sleep has fallen loose and is so wild across the pillow he will surely have a mess to wrangle once he’s awake. The ends of some of that hair are being ruffled by his soft breathing, and even the way he drools a little bit is cute somehow. 

It makes Sirius want to draw him. He has before, several times, to Remus’ complete embarrassment. But as great an artist as he declares himself to be, he couldn’t capture this moment accurately, he knows. He wishes he knew about film the way Remus does. If only he could frame this up in some soft angle and capture the vision of warmth to revisit whenever he needs it again. 

He supposes if he can’t do those things, then he should absorb it and live in the moment instead.

One hand reaches out and pushes the hair from in front of Remus’ mouth behind his ear. He can’t resist touching even if he knows it will inevitably wake his boyfriend up. His fingers continue of their own accord, twirling the ends of his hair into tight circles and running a thumb along the soft ends. He tries not to tug, but Remus does end up frowning and blinking blearily at Sirius all the same. 

“Time’s it?” 

Sirius lifts himself to look at the alarm clock nearby. “Half past eight.”

Remus groans loudly, doing absolutely nothing to hide his annoyance. “Saturday.”

“It is Saturday,” Sirius agrees. He wiggles his body forward enough to slot into Remus’ sleep heavy arms. 

Remus loses his grasp on words then and instead makes a series of wobbly grumbly noises. Sirius can’t really tell if they’re grumpy or neutral grumbles and so he pays them no mind whatsoever. Instead he leans in and attaches his lips to the underside of Remus’ jaw, kissing and very very lightly nibbling the stubble rough skin there. Remus hasn’t shown to be opposed to a little biting here and there but morning Remus is a beast to be approached with the utmost caution. 

His work doesn’t get him shoved away or thwapped on the head, and so he pushes ever onward. Lips move and tongue follows, teeth tug at earlobe only just so. Remus finally responds with the briefest hum of approval Sirius has ever heard. 

“Have you ever-“ he breaks away to kiss unresponsive lips. Have You Ever is Sirius’ latest favorite game in which he narrows down to another thing Remus has not had the joy of experiencing in the past so that he can immediately and enthusiastically do that exact thing. The game has had mixed success so far. “Done it in the shower?”

Remus hums a distinctly positive sounding hum, his head very barely nods a yes. 

“Ok.” Sirius digs deeper into the infinite well of Things He’d Like To Do To Remus. “In public?”

“Ugh, no.” The look on his face removes that quite swiftly from Sirius’ list. 

“Has anyone eaten you out?”

Remus blinks one eye open at him. “Like-?” Sirius nods. “No.”

There was never once any chance Sirius could hold off the grin that splits across his face. 

“Isn’t it-?” Remus cuts off his own question with a wrinkle nosed frown. 

Sirius’ fingers wind a path along Remus’ back, into his hair and along an arm before returning to his back. “It doesn’t do much for me, but a- a person I knew always said it drove him crazy.”

“I won’t have a jealous fit if you talk about an ex.” Remus wears a bleary soft smile. 

“Fine.” Sirius rolls his eyes. “My ex loved it when I ate his ass, happy?”

“No,” Remus says. “It’s eight in the fucking morning.”

He rolls over and away from Sirius, eyes clamped shut as if he’s already returned to sleep. Sirius plasters himself to his back, arms wrapped tight around his middle. He lets one hand wander, fingers trailing light along soft belly skin and disappearing inside his well worn t-shirt. Lips meet the base of Remus’ neck, tongue and teeth working a mark into the bump of spine. 

Remus squirms, half enjoying these touches half trying to escape back to where he can properly sleep. He grunts when Sirius plasters himself even closer and those wandering fingers find a nipple. 

“I’ve been told I’m very good at it,” he says, voice low. 

“Mmrmpff,” Remus replies. Sirius isn’t entirely sure what that means. Probably agreement that the magnificence of his sexual prowess is beyond question. 

His hand continues its wandering path, back down and over Remus’ belly, playing lightly against the angle of his hip where the waistband of his borrowed pajama pants sits low. All pretense left behind, he follows that line to the front of his pants, palm pressing flat where Remus is already hard. 

“Knew it,” Sirius comments when Remus grunts again. “You aren’t even sleeping.”

Remus huffs half a laugh. “How can I sleep with you molesting me?”

“Doesn’t seem like you mind.” Sirius grips Remus through his pants, can feel him twitch in his hand. 

Eyes still closed, Remus gasps when Sirius moves his hand, just one short stroke over cloth before pulling away. He can feel Sirius shifting, reaching between them, adjusting himself and pressing close again. He laughs when that hand returns immediately after, this time shoved beneath the waistband and sliding home.

“Yeah, I don’t mind.” Remus’ voice is breathy, hips arching back to meet Sirius’ and finding him pressed hard against him. 

It’s remarkably easy to lose himself in the experience of getting to see Remus like this, how overwhelmingly sexy he is whether he wants to ever believe that or not. Sirius sucks a second mark into skin to match the first, following the bumps of Remus’ spine. His hand jerks, motions gradually becoming smoother as Remus leaks, eager despite any acting contrary from before. 

It’s a long moment before Sirius remembers what actually got them here. 

“So how about it?” He asks, his own voice gone rough. 

Remus jolts, broken out of his own daze. “Now?”

“Yes, now.” Sirius laughs. 

“Um,” Remus starts. “Sure, anything once, right?”

Anything Once is the agreement they’d reached after a long game of Have You Ever that lead to a lengthy serious relationship conversation. As soon as Remus had stopped stammering long enough to have a blunt conversation about sex, they’d agreed. If they didn’t absolutely hate an idea, they’d try it once. They trust each other enough that what might sound daunting in the hands of someone else isn’t frightening at all between them. 

Sirius lights up like Christmas morning, he lifts himself on one elbow and smacks a trail of kisses across Remus’ neck and jaw and lips. Remus finally has his eyes open, though still fairly heavy lidded, and he hums pleasantly at the catch of scratchy scruff. 

Pulling away, Sirius manhandles a bit to push Remus onto his stomach and remove his pants in one go. He grabs a pillow to shove under his hips, Remus helping to support himself on both knees. Sirius can see one ear unhidden by bed messy hair flush a deep red when he guides Remus’ knees even farther apart. 

Sirius kneels behind Remus, taking a moment to press his still clothed hips against him from behind, relieving what pressure he can while trailing long fingers from love bite to love bite down, down, down. 

“You’ll like this.”

He kisses the dimple low on Remus’ back, one hand trailing across his hip and the enticing curve of his ass. Sirius was never much of a poet, but he could genuinely write an epic to put Homer to shame about the artistry that is Remus Lupin’s backside. 

Just faintly, he can hear Remus mutter an embarrasses sounding “god” when he uses that palm to spread him open. Not new to this but still so easily made shy from exposure. Sirius can picture that blush from his ears spreading across his cheeks and neck. 

Remus squirms at the first press of tongue. “S’weird,” he says when Sirius licks, broad tongued. “I don’t know if-“ he breaks off with a gasp when Sirius changes up and presses firm. 

He can’t help his smile, but he closes his eyes and presses closer and focuses on getting more pleased noises out of his boyfriend. 

“Oh.” Remus does not let him down. “Sirius, yes.”

His hips work of their own accord the more he gets into it, forward into the gentle give of the pillow and backward, pushing somehow even closer against Sirius’ face. Sirius encourages him, one hand wrapped around his hip in a tight grip keeping him held right where he needs him. 

Remus’ gasps and breaths continue to pick up under Sirius’ focused attention. His legs twitch next to Sirius’ head, he can just barely see the strain of muscle in his peripheral vision. 

“Ah!” He cries out brokenly before he can manage to bite it back when Sirius pushes past the tight rim. “Fuck.”

He’s normally so restrained in his noises, biting his lip until it’s swollen and red to hold it all in. Sirius pulls away to gloat and is stopped short by the vision in front of him: Remus splayed out, blush spreading across the back of his neck exposed by the fist he has clenched in his own hair, other hand grabbing a handful of their tossed aside comforter. His body heaves with his heavy breaths and Sirius has no doubts this will be worth a sore jaw. 

“Told you you’d like it,” Sirius says. 

“You’re- Ah-“ Remus chokes off his thought again, Sirius pushing his finger into him to the first knuckle stops him short. 

“Amazing?” Sirius prompts. 

“Smug.” Any effect of intended sass is fairly lost in the breathy quality of Remus’ voice. 

“That too,” Sirius agrees easily. 

He removes his finger, there only to tease anyway, and dives back in. Remus swears again when, after one broad lick, he pushes his tongue in harder and deeper than before. 

“Yes,” Remus encourages at volume. “M’close.”

Sirius does not relent, pressing close and keeping a rhythm, feeling Remus twitch and shake around him. His free hand finds the space between Remus and the pillow, not much able to move but free to give him something a little more substantial to thrust into. 

“God,” Remus repeats, no longer embarrassed but feeling and desperate. 

He comes in Sirius’ hand with a satisfying moan, a sharply arched back, and several shaky breaths. Sirius shifts, letting his head rest against Remus’ hip and pulling his hand back to shove down the front of his own pajama pants to wrap around his too long neglected erection. His own stuttered breathing seems to wake Remus out of his post-orgasm daze. 

“Come here.” Remus’ voice is deep and rough, one hand flapping blindly against the side of Sirius’ head. “Up here.”

Sirius rises at the same time as Remus shifts and rolls over. Remus pulls at Sirius’ hips, manhandling him until he’s straddling high across his ribs. Once there, he yanks Sirius’ pants over his hips in one go and grabs a handful of ass. Sirius returns to stroking himself with a renewed fervor. 

“You’re so fuckin’-“ Sirius can’t stop replaying the sounds Remus made in his mind. “So hot.”

Remus doesn’t reply, but his free hand breezes past Sirius’ furiously working arm and finds his nipple with alarming precision. He works over the sensitive skin, knowing exactly how to set Sirius off. 

“Sirius.” He sounds shredded and it tears through Sirius like fire. He comes over Remus’ chest and neck who takes it all with admirable grace. 

Together they have a moment, quiet but for Sirius enjoying the last tremors of electric pleasure. When he opens his eyes again, Remus is looking up at him already. 

“Hey,” he says, sounding the kind of content tired of the very well fucked. 

Sirius smiles back. “Hey.”

“Are you going to be unbearable if I tell you you were right?” Remus asks warily. 

Stretching, Sirius grabs a handful of tissue to clean them both up. He beams, but tries to keep the level of visible self satisfaction to a minimum. 

“If you told me that I’d even go make you coffee.”

“In that case,” Remus says immediately. “You were definitely right.”

Sirius laughs, bends down to kiss Remus’ cheek and neck, has to stop because he’s laughing all over again. 

“I’m gonna have beard burn on my ass.” His voice is so deadpan it sets Sirius off laughing even harder. He falls and rolls over on the bed, shoulders still shaking even as he stares at Remus like he’s everything. 

He runs his fingers through Remus irreversibly tangled hair, he’s going to need so much conditioner, leans in and smushes another kiss to his cheek. 

“Poor baby.” He pouts for him. “I’ll get your coffee.”

Sirius sets his pants to rights and walks through the fairly small apartment with the swagger of a man on top of the world. He’s aware it’s insufferable, he can’t really force himself to care, not when he has very good reason to be insufferable. 

“What has you looking so smug?” He hadn’t even seen James at the kitchen table when he walked in he was so caught up in his internal gloating. 

He pauses briefly in his coffee preparation to look at James with a significantly raised eyebrow. 

“Oh, ugh.” James drops his phone onto the table with a clatter and covers his eyes with his hand. “I forgot.”

“Well-“ he adds just the right amount of milk and sugar and stirs. “That’s your fault.”

On his way back out of the kitchen, he takes just a second to make a vulgar gesture James’ way. He can’t see his face, which is a shame, but the sound of his indignant screeching is almost just as good.


End file.
